


All Tied Up

by cassikat



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alien Biology, F/M, The Hair is Alive!, They did sex, donna is amazing, drinks were involved, who knew the Doctor could dance?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 07:43:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11824182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassikat/pseuds/cassikat
Summary: After a night of intimacy, the Doctor and Donna find themselves rather uniquely trapped in bed. What will it take to free them?





	All Tied Up

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The BBC would never, ever have allowed anything like this in DW. Especially not with Donna. Shame, shame on them.
> 
> Author's Note: This came about through comment-tennis with tkelparis on one of the chapters of her story on her livejournal, Blind Date. One of my best birthday pressies that year, by the way :D Anyway, in her story, the Doctor's Hair developed a life of it's own, enough so that we were referring to it as The Hair. And I'd made a comment about expecting to see it tie itself in knots, and tkel said 'Maybe after sex' ...and obviously, this story was born ;) You're still evil by the way, tkel. I've got other stories I ought to be working on, but this one was exceedingly demanding after you fed it. :)
> 
> And since I adore the thought of the Doctor having prehensile hair, it may show up in other fic. :D
> 
> Beta-love to tkelparis, as usual, and love to all my reviewers and readers!

 

* * *

 

Donna woke to the all-too familiar sensation of not knowing precisely where she was. Eyes closed, she ran the usual checklist. She was comfortable, and warm all over, even her head. Warm was always good, it meant the month's bills had been paid. Or, more recently, that she and the Doctor hadn't been chucked into some freezing cell or other, and she was probably inside the TARDIS.

Her head didn't hurt at all, which meant no hangover. Her mouth did sort of taste a bit fuzzy though, which meant there had been a few drinks involved, but it was the kind of fuzzy that meant she'd had maybe two lagers, or the alcoholic equivalent thereof, so that was all right. She didn't usually do anything too shaming on two lagers.

Donna's internal checklist was derailed rather abruptly when a puff of air hit her face, as it had been for at least the last few minutes before she noticed. Oh God, she was in bed with someone! And, as she slowly moved under the sheet, she found out she was naked and entwined with someone! Her eyes flashed open in alarm, but at first all she could see was a blur of flesh, and a slightly crooked nose.

She frowned and blinked frantically until the world came into focus, and she sighed in simultaneous relief and dread. That was the Doctor's nose, so close to hers, and his freckles, and his closed eyes and long eyelashes... and he was looking incredibly peaceful. So she wasn't in bed with some stranger, that would have been the worst. But how had they gotten in bed, together? And naked and entwined and... from the residual aches in unusual places, had done quite a lot of sex in the night.

She closed her eyes again and thought back. They'd been at a party she'd dragged him to, there'd been fruity drinks drunk by both of them, and a lot of dancing. Samba, mambo, tango. And at some point during the tango, she'd decided that she was through pretending she hadn't developed feelings for him, and she was pretty sure he had some kind of feeling for her, given that it wasn't a banana in his pants! So, after he'd lifted her back up from the dip he'd ended the dance with, she'd kissed him.

He'd given her that rabbit-in-the-lights huge-eyed look and sputtered a bit until she'd kissed him again, then he'd gone dark-eyed and hungry and kissed her hard, and as hungry as his eyes had been. And after that, it was a blur of running back to the TARDIS hand in hand, more heated, hungry kisses, clothes flying everywhere, and eventually falling into bed where - there just weren't any other words to describe it - they'd shagged like horny rabbits. More times than she could remember, just about every position in the book, and so many orgasms that it was no wonder she'd woken up not immediately remembering last night - she was kind of surprised that her brain hadn't melted from that much pleasure!

Donna sighed with regret as the need for a toilet entered her awareness, and she prepared to leave the not really so surprising comfort of being wrapped up with the Doctor. Slowly, slowly she untangled her legs from his in an attempt to let him stay asleep while she left to deal with things. An attempt that failed as she tried to ease away from him, only to be brought up short by a tug on her hair.

"Ow!" She wasn't really hurt, just surprised that her hair had been tugged on. But as she looked up, expecting to see the Doctor's hand twined around a few locks, she got an unexpected and not entirely welcome surprise. It wasn't his hand, it was his hair.

"Doctor," she growled softly, and gently poked him in the arm. "Wake up."

The Doctor came back to awareness and memory much more quickly than Donna had, and while his mouth was making "Hmmwhhaaa?" noises, he was running a high-speed rewind of last night to see why she was even the teensiest bit angry with him. Barely alcoholic drinks, intimate dancing, kissing. Quite a lot of kissing actually, which had led, to his ecstatic surprise, to her joining him in his bed for a whirlwind demonstration of a Time Lord's endurance and ability to read what best pleased his partner. She'd seemed to enjoy it immensely, if the number of orgasms she'd had, and position changes she'd either initiated or joyfully complied with had been any indication... so why the change this morning? If it was morning.

She poked him again, and his eyes flashed open with a hint of irritation, but fear was lurking behind that spark of ire. What if she regretted it? What if she wanted him to take her home for good?

"Donna? Is something wrong?"

Pleasedon'twanttoleavemepleasestaypleasestaypleasestay.

"Oh, I'd say there's definitely something wrong this morning," she replied, trying to keep an even tone, then tried to pull her head away again. This time, his head moved with hers, and they lightly bumped foreheads. "That's what's wrong! Your hair's tied itself up with mine!"

"What?!" He instantly reached his hand up and felt his hair, then groaned in embarrassment. It felt like every long strand of his hair had, in the night, somehow managed to get hold of a strand of Donna's hair and firmly knotted both sets into a tangle. As entangled as he and Donna had fallen asleep as, but much, much harder to untangle. And if that wasn't bad enough, it was still moving and twining even tighter with Donna's hair. If he didn't do something soon, this situation was going to start hurting both of them.

"Oh, this is shaming," he mumbled and tried to smooth his hair into relaxing that tight hold on Donna's hair. But with his underlying panic about her possibly wanting to leave him, he could barely get it to relax enough to return to the state he'd woken in.

"It's a bit more worrying than shaming from this side, Spaceman," Donna said, still a bit angry, but she was gentler now. He obviously hadn't intended this to happen, so she couldn't really be mad at him. She sighed and captured his hand when he let it fall from his hair and squeezed it gently to let him know she wasn't furious, just startled. "I mean," she continued. "I knew your hair moved a bit on its own - I kinda use it as a barometer for your moods. But I didn't know it could do this!"

"It's been that obvious?" His eyes widened with shock. How had he not noticed he was relaxed enough around Donna for his hair to indicate his moods?

"Well, yeah," she replied and tried to nod, but that just bonked their heads together again. "Ow. But seriously, it's going every which way in the mornings until you've had breakfast, just like you do, then it neatens up without you laying a comb on it. And the more excited you get, the more like a hedgehog the front looks. It'd probably go into standing every which way when you're frustrated or angry even if you didn't run your hands through it and ruffle it all up. And," she sighed and gently stroked her thumb over his hand. "When you let yourself really mourn for Jenny, it was completely flat for three days."

She shrugged and gave him a tiny smile. "So, you have mood hair, and I just accepted it as part of you and didn't say anything, cos it might be taboo or embarrassing or something. But if I'd known it could move like this, I'd have asked you about it a lot sooner!"

"Huh," he replied and let her hold his hand while he thought. He hadn't let his hair relax around Rose, and wouldn't until she grew into the potential he'd seen in her possibilities. But he'd lost her before that could happen, and his hair had been even flatter with shock and grief when he'd first met Donna. It had at least come to feel a little alive before he'd left her, though. And while he'd gotten used enough to her presence for his hair to stand up a bit with Martha, he'd never quite been comfortable enough with her to really relax his control and let his hair be the barometer to his moods that his biological nature intended.

"And what's that mean?"

"It means," he said, as he regained his focus on her and attempted a tentative smile, "that I'm so comfortable in your company, in your acceptance of me as who and what I am, that I didn't even try to rein my hair in. I can do it - usually," he growled, as he'd just tried to force his hair to go limp and failed. "But it's being very stubborn this morning!"

"You make it sound like it's got a mind of its own!" She snorted in sceptical amusement, even as she treasured that he was comfortable enough with her to really relax around her. It meant he probably wouldn't try to get rid of her for sort-of seducing him... she hoped.

He sighed and looked at her with worry in his eyes. She was pretty good at accepting his non-human nature, but his hair was being a bit extreme today. What if it scared her off? "It does - in a sense. Sort of. The subconscious mind of a Time Lord can, if the situation is right, take over control of a body part - or the entire body - but usually that's only in times of extreme danger. But there's no danger here, so why is it acting like there is? And with my hair?!"

"Well there is a teensy danger of me flooding the bed if I don't get to the toilet soon, but try and relax, Spaceman. Calm down, and we'll figure out how to get you control of your hair back, okay?" Donna winced a little and freed her hand from his to stroke his cheek. "Cos I know you didn't mean for your hair to tug that hard on mine, yeah?"

"Yeah," he sighed and slowed his breathing. Then closed his eyes, even though he hated not being able to see Donna, and let her gentle stroking of his cheek be his guide to relaxation. Well, mostly. He could now feel the tiny muscles of his scalp remaining tense, contrary to the rest of his body, and he could even feel his hair twining with Donna's. But he couldn't get control of those tiny muscles and fibres, and that was exceedingly annoying.

"It's not working," he finally growled in frustration and opened his eyes again.

"It's barely been two minutes," she said with a bit of a grin. "But you're obviously too frustrated to try it again, so tell me more about your hair. I mean, it's not a symbiotic entity, is it? It's not like your hair started out as a separate creature, right?"

He snickered in amusement, and shook his head as much as the current tangle allowed. "No, it's not a separate creature, even if it is acting like one right now. But it was never allowed, back on Gallifrey, to lose control of oneself enough to let one's hair show their emotions. The society was very much based on control of... everything, basically. Emotions, actions... who you married, what you did. Everything."

"I bet you must have hated that," Donna said with a healthy helping of sympathy. "And I bet you got into a lot of trouble, too. And not just cos of your hair."

"I did." He winced and blocked out memories of his troubles - she didn't need to know all that right now. As he blew out a breath, he cast his mind back to how he'd dealt with his hair, that first lifetime so long ago. "Most Time Lords kept their hair short and under a skullcap. I couldn't stand the skullcap, so I managed to grow mine out to shoulder length, and, aside from a bit of teasing, it worked."

"Must have felt weird, though," Donna said with a small smile. He was doing his talk and talk and never say a word thing again... but if his society had been the biggest bunch of control freaks ever, he'd probably appreciate not being badgered into telling about it. Hopefully, one day, he'd learn he could trust her with all his secrets... in the meanwhile though, she had his hair to learn about and deal with.

"It did, yeah. But, other than a few regenerations where my hair naturally started out that long, I pretty much let it do what it wanted. Once I'd left and started travelling, I mean."

"Thought so," she replied with as much of a nod as she could manage without bonking their heads together again. But even as she rearranged herself so she could lay back down on the pillow comfortably, she was thinking. He said his hair reacted to his emotions, and she'd seen that herself. So... what was he feeling and not admitting to make his hair literally tie itself into knots with hers?

"It must have been even wilder when you were travelling with Rose," she finally murmured. He'd loved her, it must have been absolutely bonkers when they were together.

He couldn't help but flinch, and his hair went tense again. After a handful or two of seconds ticked by, he managed to convince his subconscious that Rose wasn't around, and when his hair relaxed enough to be comfortable again, he said, "Actually, I never really let it relax when I was with Rose. I mean, occasionally, after I'd riled it up running my hands through it, I'd be too distracted by whatever we were facing and it'd move some, but she never noticed that."

He closed his eyes and heaved a huge sigh. "She had such bad reactions whenever I'd do something she regarded as too alien, that I didn't dare let my hair be free."

"But I thought... I thought you loved her," Donna murmured. "And now it sounds like you were almost afraid of her."

"I did... but it's more like... more like I needed her, rather than loved her. Oh I did love the potential she had, to grow and become so much more than the shopgirl I first met... I loved that person she _could_ be very much. But I think I knew from my first trip with her that she would have trouble accepting aliens as equals. I suppose, if I had been thinking straight, I'd have dropped her off after that first run, but instead I clung to her, because she was... was so _very_ focused in the present. She let me forget the Time War, let me forget what I'd done... the monster I'd become. She let me pretend I was normal again, just a man in his little blue box, and not the last of my kind. I suppose just by being there she gave me hope, and I couldn't bear the thought of losing that."

"Oh sweetheart, no wonder you were such a mess when we met," Donna murmured, and, daringly, reached up to stroke the tangled mess of his hair clinging to hers. Maybe if she petted it soothingly, it'd relax and let go.

"Yeah," he replied a bit wetly, then closed his eyes and relaxed into her gentle touch, hoping it'd convince his subconscious, and therefore his hair, to relax.

After a while of futilely stroking his hair in hopes that it would untangle, Donna asked, "So, what was your hair like when you were with Martha? Cos when we met up with her again, with that Atmos and the Sontarans, it didn't act any different than usual. I mean, what little of that time I was actually with you for."

"Oh, it was a lot different when I first met her," he said with a half-laugh. "In the beginning it kept itself sort of flat, or my not really being sure of her did, same difference. But once I got to know her a little better, aside from when she'd snap at me when I'd mention Rose, I, and therefore my hair, was a bit more relaxed, and it was a bit poofy in the front. Nothing like it is with you though."

"Oh, right, Martha had a crush on you. It's always hard to hear one's crush talk about the previous woman, even when he's never gonna see the person again. So whenever she put herself forward it'd make you all tense again, right? She could've been a bit nicer when you mentioned Rose, though."

"Really? How d'you mean?" His eyebrow went up in curiosity, eager to hear what his magnificent Donna would have done in Martha's situation with her greater experience and maturity.

"Well, instead of going on a flaming tear, she could've asked you about what Rose was like, even if she was meaning to try and replace her. Which you can't do, replace someone's love, I mean. You can only make your own space in someone's heart, not fill another's. Anyway, you can learn a lot about a man when he's talking about his past love. I mean, look what I learnt just now." Donna gave him a small smile, and kept on stroking his hair. Petting it might not make it let go of hers, but it was soothing to both of them. Now if only she could figure out why it was holding on so tightly to hers...

"You've certainly made your own space in my hearts," he said with a crooked, slightly giddy grin. Now, if he could just make her see that she was special, that she wasn't 'just another' anything, they could have a whole new adventure to go on...

"Have I?" She asked with a pleased smile, then got a thoughtful look as she pursued an idea. Maybe if she could get him to verbalise his feelings for her, there'd be a clue how to get his hair to let go in there. "So... what kind of space is it I've made, sunshine?"

"Well, er... I... um... I..." He trailed off, suddenly speechless with the fear he'd been suppressing. Obviously sex with her alien best friend wasn't going to scare Donna off, nor was his misbehaving hair... but what would she do when he revealed how deep his feelings ran? He couldn't bear the thought that she'd leave - the idea that she'd leave because of his feelings terrified him!

"Oi! Careful there!" Donna yelped, cos his shorter hairs, the ones that hadn't got hairs of hers to tangle with, had suddenly gone as tightly around her fingers as they could. Almost like... almost like they were afraid. Like she was the only security in the whole universe...

"What happened?" He asked, wide-eyed in surprise.

"While you were stammering around, trying to find your words about my place in your hearts," She frowned at him, still unable to move her hand. "Some of your hair latched on tight to my fingers, like a frightened toddler clutching a security blankie. Your hair's acting scared, that means you're scared, and not just embarrassed like I'd thought at first. So what could you say that could scare you so badly?"

"If I tell you, you'll leave me," he managed to reply after a few moments of fear-laden silence. "You'll leave, and I'll be alone again."

She lay there in silence for at several moments, just staring at him while she felt his hair desperately writhe tighter around her fingers. Leave him? Oh, now he was just being ridiculous! Why would she leave him when she'd promised him forever? Finally she sighed, and scrunched her fingertips against his scalp, trying to get him and his hair to relax. "You daft prawn. You dimnoid. There isn't a thing you could say that would make me leave you, you outer-space dunce. So, out with it!"

He closed his eyes, terrified that he would see her concern turn into hate, or worse, fear, when he confessed. "I love you, Donna. More than that. I'm in love with you. And I know you only want friendship, and you said none of that nonsense, and I'm just a skinny alien, and you were probably just in the heat of the moment last night, but-"

Typical Spaceman Donna thought, annoyed at him again. She couldn't even react to him admitting that he loved her, cos there he went with his verbal diarrhoea. And her hand was trapped by his hair, so she did the only thing she could to shut him up. She took advantage of a pause and kissed him. And when she stopped, she glared at his wide-eyed, startled self.

"Shut up. Aht!" She scowled ferociously at him when he opened his mouth. "You just keep quiet and let me have a reaction!" Flippin' idiot, how was she supposed to have a chance to react to his declaration when he wouldn't shut up?!

He continued his wide-eyed stare, but managed to keep his mouth shut. Mostly out of fear of her reaction, but he did manage to keep his mouth shut. Even when her eyes closed... but after nearly three minutes of silence, he just couldn't bear it anymore. He had to know, one way or another. "...Donna?"

Once she'd got him to shut up, she closed her eyes, attempted to mentally block out his verbal diarrhoea so she could focus on his declaration of his feelings, and settled back to see what her reaction really was. First was instant denial - he couldn't possibly love her, what was there to love? She was just a Human temp, a secretary. Just a stupid, silly ginger temp, shouting at the world cos no one would listen. But under that first, reflex reaction, she was almost in tears of joy, cos she loved him too. And she had for a long time now, she'd just been keeping quiet cos she didn't want him to think she had a crush like Martha's. And she'd thought he really properly loved Rose and was still mourning her.

He probably always would be sad about losing Rose, she thought. But he wasn't in mourning anymore. Not if he loved her now. But now she had a lot more questions to ask, and she still had to pee, and his hair was still showing how scared he was - her fingers were numb now - so when he said her name, she opened her eyes and raised an eyebrow at him. "I thought I'd said be quiet?"

"Actually you said shut up and be quiet, and I have been, but it's been three minutes and I've never been quiet for that long and-" Maybe he should babble more often with her hands trapped, he thought, as she kissed him again to shut him up. Or was that taking advantage of the situation?

"And how am I supposed to get a word in edgewise when you're babbling, you silly spaceman?" She smirked at him staring at her again, cos she still had to kiss him to shut him up. She might start doing that when her hands weren't trapped, cos kissing him worked better than anything else she or anyone else had tried. "And don't say shouting, neither," she continued, a soft smile on her lips and love in her eyes. "Cos saying 'I love you too' really isn't believable when I'm shouting it."

Now he was quiet without being made to be. Struck dumb with shock, actually, because only in his wildest dreams had he ever dared to hope that she might love him in return. But she'd said it, and she never really lied to him, so he slowly let himself believe it.

Donna sighed with relief, while he was silently absorbing that she loved him, cos his hair had relaxed and let her fingers go. As she moved her hand to his hip, that being a lot safer than his head right now, a flicker of motion caught her attention and she found she could actually move her head enough to look at his hair slowly standing on end. Silly hair was still holding onto hers though. But it wasn't in knots anymore, and that was good.

While he was quiet, Donna thought she'd take advantage of the chance, and spill a bit more of her feelings for him. "Y'know, I've always thought you were the most dazzling man I'd ever met. Course, your ego was bigger than Granddad's house, so I never told you before. And at the time, I really did mean I wasn't having any of that nonsense, cos I was mad at you. It's like you were warning me about cosying up to you, when you told me about Martha, and then suddenly it sounded like you were signing me up for a quick 'How's your father' when all I wanted was to travel with you and be your friend. So I got mad and shouted at you. Probably confused you a lot, given the trouble we had clearing that up." She laughed a little, cos it was funny, looking back on it.

He still wasn't talking, but he was looking at her with a hint of a smile on his face, so she carried on. "And then, everywhere we went, people were calling us married, and that was really annoying cos it felt like they were poking fun at us at first. But then, as I started to really get to know you, it was annoying for another reason. Cos I was starting to fall in love with you, and I wanted us to be together like everyone thought we were, and I was scared that if I so much as hinted at it, you'd think I was just like Martha. And then our travelling together would end, and I wanted as much of forever as we could get. I'd have been happy with forever as just your friend-"

He had a soft smile on his face when he leaned forward to kiss her. The kissing to quiet a person worked for her too, he noticed as he pulled back. "I know. And I'd have been happy enough just being your friend, even though I wanted so much more. Which means I am so very, very happy you wanted to go dancing last night." And, just to prove it, he kissed her again, and not to shut her up this time.

After they finally came up for air, Donna had a blush on her cheeks even as she gave him a cheeky grin. "Well, that was kind of the point of finding a party that would play sambas and tangos and stuff. I kept catching you looking at me when you thought I wouldn't notice, and I couldn't make sense of it. So I thought if I couldn't get you on the floor at all, you maybe weren't interested the way I thought you might be and I'd actually have to ask what those looks were about, but if I could get you to dance, knowing what kind of dancing it was, I'd at least have a clue how you really felt."

"And it worked, too. Donna Noble, you are brilliant!" He beamed a megawatt grin at her. Then they both laughed as his hair finally released Donna's and worked itself into a poofy hedgehog mess with a hint of a swirl.

"And thank goodness your hair finally got the hint, cos in another couple minutes I'd have wet the bed," Donna said as she rolled out of his bed and made for the ensuite at a fast clip. She'd meant his emotions, or his subconscious, or whatever, but it was just easier to say it was his hair that got the clue.

The Doctor rolled to his back, still grinning, and stretched like a cat. He'd taken an enormous risk last night, following his hearts, but it had paid off in spades. So, he thought, instead of going somewhere today he'd let the TARDIS stay in the vortex and they could make a lazy day of it. And perhaps, at some point, she'd be amenable to a chance to see the difference between the wild sex of last night and making love. And after that? Who knew, but he did know one thing. With Donna at his side, or under him, or on top of him, it would always be magnificent.


End file.
